


Weigh You Down, Watch You Choke

by jetpackblews



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Bondage, Crime AU, Dom/sub, F/M, Goodnight Moon, Hitting, Stockholm Syndrome, he robs people and knifes people in back allies, inspired by goodnight moon, it'll come, its gonna be a good one, not this chapter tho, pete is basically a crime commiting nomad, probably a lot of other shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetpackblews/pseuds/jetpackblews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd be surprised how quickly your life can change when a guy like Pete Wentz wants you bad enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weigh You Down, Watch You Choke

**Author's Note:**

> I am a sinner.  
> Creds to Zero (pet-patrick on tumblr) for being beta.
> 
> Loosely based on imagines sent between friends and also inspired by Goodnight Moon.
> 
> TW: Kidnapping, Guns, Drugging

It was late evening in the midst of March, when the glow of the moon is the only thing lighting the dead cities. Most people are asleep and only the monsters from their dreams walk the streets that line the buildings.

I laid on my bed, a queen sized mattress with a black comforter and an uncomfortable lack of pillows. My younger sister had wanted to use all of them to make a pillow fort in her bedroom, and it’s not like I could say no to Kiley, who wouldn't take no lightly, so I hesitantly and regretfully handed them over to the small (4'5) child who carried all four pillows at one time. I asked if she needed help, to which she replied "I'm 6, I think I can do this."

My laptop was open in front of me as I lay on my stomach, WordPad open and ready to type out the report that was due in class in 13 hours. The one I had waited until now to start, despite the fact I had over a week to prepare. The one that counted for 30% of my grade.

My head fell tiredly forward into the comforter and I sighed heavily. There was a single sentence typed out so far, with the title and heading in the corner.

 ** _“At least it’s progress”_** I thought, rolling onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly all the bumps and curves of the plaster were incredibly interesting.

 _ **“It really wouldn't hurt to check twitter, or tumblr, or--”**_ My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a banging sound from the lower part of the house.The sound didn't concern me too much. I was violently familiar with the unexpected disturbances that occured throughout the day.

My dad wasn't an abusive guy, not in most people's definitions anyway, but he did have a temper. Sometimes he hits things. We pretend it doesn't happen. I live with the emotional scarring for most of my life. Shit happens.

So it wasn't the sound that concerned me, even though I assumed our parents were in bed by now, but more of Kiley in the next room who had to have heard it. She was probably wondering what it was and might have even been scared. I was only doing my sisterly duty by putting off my very important paper to go and check on her.

I slid off the bed and trudged to the door, cautiously opening and peering out, looking towards the stairs. I walked the opposite way towards Kiley’s room and stood at her doorway, watching her as she did her best to construct a pillow fort that was strong enough to defend from any monster. Her usually hyper demeanor, even at the late hour, now seemed deterred as she nervously set the pillows in each position.

“How’s the pillow fort going?” I asked calmly, inching closer to her as she now looked at me with worried eyes.

“It’s good. What was the noise?” Kiley asked, standing up and closing the gap between us. I was fully prepared to make something up (”Mom dropped something” “Probably a bird hit the kitchen window”) but before the words could leave my mouth Kiley screamed and grabbed onto me. Confused and startled, I turned around quickly, gripping Kiley’s arm.

“Don’t move."

I saw him before I heard him, my thoughts stopping and my body locked in place as I stared straight into the gun pointed at me.

I held Kiley behind me with a death grip, her body beginning to shake as she started to cry behind me, her tears soaking into the back of my shirt.

I took a moment to look at the man who stood in front of us, who held both our lives in his hands and could end them if I made a move I never did hear a gun shot from downstairs. How did he not wake up my parents?

The man (though he looked more like a young adult) wore a purple hoodie and a bandana over his mouth and nose. The only visible thing I could see were his eyes. I swore I saw eyeliner. I noticed as he held the gun that he wore black gloves. He definitely knew what he was doing which wouldn't work out in my favor. I figured I should say something, anything if not to protect me but to protect Kiley. My voice felt like it was trapped in my throat. I started to speak but it was barely a whisper.

” _Please_ “ I said softly, my voice wavering. ” _P-Please_ let us go or at least let her go. She’s only 6.“

I couldn’t see his mouth since it was covered but I could tell by the crinkle of his eyes and the tone of his voice that he was smirking. "And how old are you?”

I felt the blood rush to my face as I inhaled sharply. I didn’t answer at first but his finger moved on the trigger, probing the words out of my mouth. “18. I’m 18. Please please please let us go.”

He must have thought he didn’t have a lot of time left because it only took a matter of seconds for him to have his arm around my neck and the gun to my head.

I was whimpering now, my hands gripping his arm. Kiley stood terrified and defenseless in front of us.

“Get in the fucking pillow thing or I shoot your sister.” The voice was slightly panicked and not far from my ear. Kiley started to cry again and looked tramautized, unable to move.

“Kiley. Do it.” I said, tears starting to travel down my face.

Kiley slowly got down on her hands and knees and climbed into the pillow fort, pressing herself against the back of it, as far away from us as she could get.

“You’re not getting away as easily, princess.” He said, pulling me backwards, back out through Kiley’s bedroom door.

I began to struggle, my legs kicking and I screamed before a hand roughly covered my mouth. I still screamed, the sound muffled and useless. “Either you stop kicking and walk down the stairs or I’m going to fucking push you and I dont give a fuck what you break." I felt the hand leave my mouth as I stopped kicking and slumped against him. 

We started to make our way towards the stairs and I tried to turn my head to look back towards Kiley’s room, to make sure she was alright and that she was staying in place, but the man roughly pushed my head with his shoulder,forcing me to look forward.

“We don’t really have a lot of time, so if you could make this quick and painless that’d be great.” he said as we started to make our way down the stairs. I would have struggled more, even refused to move, but that wouldn’t have gotten me far given the advantage he had over me. The gun pointed to my head and all.

Once we got to the bottom of the stairs and my living room came into view, I immediately noticed my parents. Who were tied up and gagged, and presumably unconscious as they lay unmoving against the couch. I gasped and started crying, my legs struggling again.

“Hey, hey, let’s not focus on that right now, this is a time sensitive operation.” He said as he started pushing me towards the back of the house, which would lead us to the backyard.

He guided me through the kitchen and to the back door, which was already open, and I desperately wished my dad had been quicker to the draw on the whole security system thing, instead of putting it off for two years.

I didn't bother to struggle at this point, my body tired but my mind terrified. I honestly felt as though he wouldn't shoot me. He had bothered to kidnap me and lead me outside. He could have tied me up or killed me when he had the chance. I still didn't want to take the risk.

"You're finally cooperating, which will work out great for both of us if you keep it up." he said, somewhat loosening the grip on my neck. He led me down the alley behind my house until we reached a quite petty looking white van. I was being kidnapped in the most cliche way. When we reached the van, he took the gun off my head, using the hand to open the doors that led to the back of every parents fever dream.

I used this opportunity slide out of his grip, pushing him back and beginning to run. Before I could manage to get even a foot away he was pulling me back roughly, picking me up and throwing me into the back of the van. I half expected him to just close the doors and get in the drivers seat and drive off, but he climbed in with me, closing the doors halfway behind him. With only the sliver of light that illuminated from the moon I watched him grab a pile of rope that sat in the corner.

I started to scream, the sounds leaving my mouth before I could think about it. This was what I'd been taught my whole childhood. Scream when in danger. I didn't think I would ever have to actually use it.

His hand roughly clamped over my mouth, his body straddling me and holding me down. He quickly pulled the bandana from his face, the knot coming undone. My head was forcefully lifted as he wrapped the bandana around my mouth, tying it in the back so tightly that I couldn't hardly move my lips.

My limbs resisted against his body as he began to pull the rope around me, tying it carefully and tightly in each section. First around my arms and then my legs. I was completely immobile by the time he was done. Given the darkness of the van I couldn't see his face at all. I felt useless and exposed, tied up and gagged in the back of some creepy van.

I thought that would be the end of it as I heard him stand and start to walk but suddenly I smelled something sickly sweet, and a rag was being shoved against my face. I coughed and begin breathing hard once I felt the rag be pulled away. I could barely see him as the van creaked and he made his way to the doors, opening them and letting the moonlight fill the spaces still empty with darkness.

He hopped out, his feet hitting the pavement with a dull thud. Through my blurred vision and the feeling of my body begin to give out, I watched as he turned around and gave me one last smirk. The last thing I remember before passing out was darkness and the sound of a lock clicking into place.


End file.
